


'cause looking back (i'm falling in love with you every single night) -

by alvaughn



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Band, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, POV Second Person, background debby/jenna, small mention of cheating, small mentions to smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4298523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alvaughn/pseuds/alvaughn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>i could do this forever</i>, you tell him.</p><p><i>which part</i>, he asks coyly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'cause looking back (i'm falling in love with you every single night) -

**Author's Note:**

> second person pov so you all know that this is my true trash writing form. 
> 
> anyways this is a no-band universe fic that takes place over like 2½ years or something. pairings are first tyler/jenna, then jenna/debby, and then tyler/josh. 
> 
> also every time it references _'him'_ it's referring to josh; _'her'_ is most likely referring to jenna, but also could be referring to debby or tyler's mom. just to clear it up bc i hate actually writing names apparently. 
> 
> title from summertime by the mowgli's.

**one.**

 

when you meet him, it will not all suddenly click into place. it won't, and that is a fact; movies have conditioned you to think that maybe, just maybe, when you meet the perfect person they will solve all of your problems within moments of meeting you.

he will not solve your problems. he will not craft a better person out of your soul and your vessel immediately because things like that take time, and effort, and energy.

so, no, it will not all just click the moment you meet him. but slowly, as you show your inner demons to him and you let down the walls you deliberately put up around your heart for him to see the darker parts of you, you will realize that he does not need to solve all of your problems. he needs to merely exist for you to shape yourself into the being you want to be; for the person that you want to be for him.

he will see this dark energy, and he will see the crumbled pieces of the soul you once had that no longer fit into the jigsaw puzzle that is your mind. he will see you collapse in on yourself; he will see you throughout trial and error; he will follow you into your personal hell and back if you so ask him to.

and he will love you more for it.

 

**two.**

 

you have been conditioned to love a certain way. you have been told that you must only love girls with long blonde hair; girls with perfectly manicured nails that are painted a bluish-silver; girls that wear yellow sundresses and cat-eyed sunglasses; girls who kiss you with their pastel pink lips like you have a purpose.

you have been conditioned to love these girls because loving anyone else is sinful and treacherous and terrifying and no one will love you if you love otherwise.

but you will find yourself walking the columbus streets with him past midnight on the hunt for something like late night snacks or a new movie from the nearest redbox from your house. when you stop at a crosswalk, you will look at him in all of his glory, and he will stand beneath the streetlight and look like an angel sent from the heavens above and suddenly all of the social justice bullshit your liberal friends have been spewing for god knows how long about letting the heart love who it loves will suddenly make sense to you because you are staring at the most beautiful boy in the world and you would want nothing more than to kiss him senseless.

the light will flash white and he will push you into the street and follow you across the pavement, laughing and asking you what your problem is.

you will say that _it's nothing_.

you will wonder how someone could possibly hate you for wanting to love a boy like him.

 

**three.**

 

you will not kiss him.

you will not kiss him when you glance at him and catch his eyes lingering far too long on you. you will not kiss him when he seats himself next to you on the couch that seems to go on for miles. you will not kiss him when he nuzzles his face into your neck and tells you how much he has missed you and you will not kiss him when he laughs, full of life and love, after you tell him that you only saw him yesterday. you will not kiss him when you let your eyes linger too long on his lips as he speaks to you. you will not kiss him when he catches you and your cheeks flush red out of embarrassment.

no, you will not kiss him because he is not yours to kiss.

 

**four.**

 

you will kiss her.

you will kiss her like she is the last person you will ever kiss. you will kiss her like she is the last person on earth. you will kiss her when you see her in the morning and she hands you coffee and tells you that you look like shit. you will kiss her mid-afternoon when she stops by at your place to tell you she has to cancel dinner plans because she'll be working later. you will kiss her when you show up at her apartment after midnight reeking of desperation and want and need. you will kiss her in hopes that it will get all of the tension out of your body, that it will release you of these unwanted feelings for him.

you will kiss her, and you will not think about kissing him.

 

**five.**

 

you touch him and you feel electricity. you have not felt this way about another living being since you first met her and she shot you down. you have not felt this way since she shot you down _again and again and again and again_ before finally giving up and going out with you.

you touch him and all of the blood in your body surges to your head and makes you feel like you're losing your balance and you can't breathe. your pulse will pound in your ears and you will wonder how you got to this point.

you touch him and he smiles at you, tells you that _you look wonderful tonight_ and that he's _missed you because you haven't stopped by in awhile_.

you touch him and you wonder why you've been holding back for so long.

 

**six.**

 

when you leave that night, you don't kiss him.

you don't go home, you drive straight to her house and cup her jaw and kiss her the moment she opens the door. she will be flustered and when you look over her shoulder, there will be another blonde girl staring wide-eyed you.

you will apologize and tell her you will see her later.

she will scream that she's sorry after you; that she didn't mean for it to end this way; that you meant too much and she was just confused. you want to tell her that she's not confused, that she made a choice she wanted to make and you do not blame her at all.

you will pick up her call the moment you get home and tell her just that.

she will apologize again.

you will say that it is alright and you hope she's happy.

when she says she is, you tell her you love her and hang up.

 

**seven.**

 

word passes fast through your group of friends, and everyone gives you lingering looks when you show up at the get-together. they are sitting side by side and you meet her dream girl - her name is debby and she has a septum piercing and pretty pink lips and a wonderful smile and you tell her that they deserve each other because they do, and you tell her that you're happy for her because you are.

you don't go to the bathroom to cry, but he follows you anyways. he asks if you _are okay;_ he asks if you need anything; he asks if there's anything he can do to help. you open the bathroom door and do not think when you pull him by the collar of his starred shirt and press your lips against his.

the kiss lasts a mere three seconds and when you pull away, you don't make eye contact with him. you push beside him and make your way back to the party. you avoid him for the rest of the night.

 

**eight.**

 

he calls. you do not call him back.

 

**nine.**

 

he calls. you refuse to look at your phone.

 

**ten.**

 

it’s three weeks before he shows up at your door and demands to know why you haven't called back; why you haven't dropped by; why you did it if you were just going to pretend like he didn't exist afterwards.

you apologize. you were _scared,_ you tell him. you were _miserable_ , you tell him. you _understand if he never wants to talk to you again_ , you tell him.

he silences you by kissing you, and you think that this might be the best way to be interrupted.

 

**eleven.**

 

it's easy with him. he knows you inside and out: from your favorite color to how you like your coffee to what shows you always forget to dvr even though you love them and always complain about missing.

he knows you write music in your spare time, and he never pressures you to show it to him because you will, in time. the first song you ever show him is one about a migraine you've never gotten, and he tells you it's wonderful and kisses you senseless right then and there on the couch to show you his appreciation of you trusting him enough to let him in on this side of your life.

 _i could do this forever,_ you tell him.

 _which part,_ he asks coyly.

all of it.

all of it.

 

**twelve.**

 

you are not the marrying type.

you come to this conclusion when you're stuffed into a stiff, sweaty tux for her wedding. she looks so beautiful, and you almost cry and it's not because she's your girl but it's because she's someone else's - someone else who you really like; someone else who makes her eyes shine and her tongue press against the back of her teeth when she smiles and who loves her endlessly.

 _to debby and jenna,_ you say as you give a toast at the reception, _because without you i wouldn't believe in true love._ you bite your tongue from saying _without you i would've never found my true love._

she makes you dance with her, and she tells you that she is _so glad you came._

 _it's not your kind of scene_ , she laughs and you agree and she tucks her head into the crook of your neck in the same way he does.

speaking of him, he's watching you from the side of the dance floor as he's chatting up debby and when you make eye contact, he gives you the bright crinkly-eyed smile you love and your heart skips a beat.

she comments on it, lifting her head to look over at him before smiling to you.  _i'm glad you're happy,_ she says.

 _i am too,_ you agree.

 

**thirteen.**

 

 _i am not the marrying type_ , you tell him as you climb into his car. you somehow have the bouquet tucked under your arm - somewhere in the back of your mind you think that she planned in specifically, but then again, what do you know - and he laughs.

 _maybe i can make you the marrying type,_ he says.

 _there's no harm in trying,_ you shrug.

he laughs again and kisses you full before telling you that he's been waiting all night to get you into his bed.

 

**fourteen.**

 

it's almost morning and your head is on his chest when he asks you if you'll move in.

you've been together for some time now and it seems like the next logical step but you also think that living with him will make him see that you're just another casual thing that he will come to realize he never really loved at all.

despite that, you say _yes_.

he grins and rolls on top of you, pinning your hands above your head and kissing your neck.

what a wonderful idea.

 

**fifteen.**

 

 _you're still not the marrying type, huh,_ she asks you over coffee you both manage to find the time for in your hectic schedules.

it's been five months since her wedding and you've successfully moved in with him and things aren't as awful as you thought they were going to be, but then again they never really are in the beginning.

 _a year and five months shouldn't make me the marrying type quite yet,_ you tell her and she snickers.

 _that surprises me,_ she says, _because the way you look at him makes me wonder why you didn't get married the first day you met._

you are definitely not blushing when you tell her to fuck off.

 

**sixteen.**

 

the first time you fight - you _actually_ fight, and not that petty shit you get into every few weeks because there's not enough coffee and you're cranky after being up most of the night due to your insomnia or you ran out of shaving cream and he forgot to pick some up at the store - you get scared because you think that this is it. you think that this is the end. you think that he's going to tell you to pack up your shit and just get the fuck out, okay, tyler, just go. you don't even remember why you're fighting halfway through it - all you know is that you're yelling and slamming things around and pointing fingers for no good reason.

the first time you fight, you scream that you _love him goddammit_ and _i'm not going to give that up just because both of us can't get our heads out of our asses long enough to settle this like actual adults._

 _what did you say_ , he'll ask in a voice that's suddenly all too calm.

 _i love you_ , you'll repeat it thrice and he will close the gap between the two of you and pin you on the floor and practically tear your clothes off. you won't understand what's going on before you really, actually do -

it's the first time you've told him you love him. you've said it before; quietly into the air as he sleeps; in your mind as you watch him saunter around the apartment shirtless in the morning; after he leaves to go to work. but you've never said it directly to his conscious face, and that resonates with him.

you think it's odd that you've never said it before because you've known that you've loved him since the second day you saw him and the butterflies got so overwhelming that you had to stand on his balcony for fifteen minutes trying not to throw up. you've known since your first hello; since your first time making eye contact. you've known that you've loved him your whole fucking life and it never hit you until you finally came face to face with him.

he presses a messy kiss to your jaw and his grip is tight on your hips, on your cock, and you tell him you love him, you love him, _dear fucking lord do you_ love _him._

he loves you too. he always has.

 

**seventeen.**

 

your family loves him.

it should surprise you, you think, because they've always wanted you to fall in love with a girl and have children and have the ideal life and live the american dream. but he's a charmer - he won you over in thirty seconds so you should know.

they love him, and your mother tells you so after you all have your first dinner together and you need to get going because it's snowing and you don't want to get stuck on the road as it progressively gets worse.

they love him, and you love him, and he loves you.

you wonder how you got so lucky.

 

**eighteen.**

he starts to vaguely hint around it at the two year mark.

he'll say little things like _oh this is a nice ring_ or _wow that tux would look great on you._ you're sure that he thinks he's being sly by letting her come over and subtly leave bridal and wedding magazines around the apartment. you don't have the heart to tell the two of them that if she's already married, it could only mean that they're trying to get you on board of the marriage train too.

it's not that you're completely opposed to the idea; it's just that weddings and rings and being someone's husband leave you with a bitter taste in the back of your mouth. if there's one thing you know it's that you're a failure at almost everything that's not basketball and apparently playing piano and writing kick ass song lyrics about the messed up shit in your brain, and you'll somehow manage to fuck up being someone's husband which, really, you doesn't want to do that to _him_.

you let it happen though; let them tiptoe around you and be all too nice and try to sugarcoat the deal with wedding cake cupcakes from your favorite bakery and champagne in the middle of the week for no real reason.

 _maybe in time,_ you think as he rests his head on your shoulder and switches the netflix queue over to the x-files.

 

**nineteen.**

 

 _you need to start thinking about marriage_ , your mother tells you when you stop by her place one day. she tells you it flat out because of course she does - either she cuts to the chase or you'll manage to tiptoe your way around it.

your mother wants you to settle down and have a nice life and be happy, and you want those things too but you're also twenty six and you don't want to settle down too soon and make the mistake of being stuck with someone you hate for the rest of your life. you could never hate him, but that's your defense.

 _two years you've loved him_ , she tells you, _that's the longest you've ever stuck around for probably anything_.

you tell her that she should go into motivational speaking.

she tells you to _shut up_ and to _seriously consider it because he probably won't wait around forever._

when you leave, you text jenna and tell her that you think you might be ready to settle down with him. you don't have to ask to know that she's already texted him. there must be a plan between the two of them already in play - just waiting for the final piece to fall into place.

 

**twenty.**

 

he will ask you three times.

the first is when you are in between his legs and sucking a bruise against the jut of his hip. he will ask you in a voice that's laced with lust, and it will come out as a statement instead of a question.

 _marry me_ , he will gasp as you suck on his skin perfectly, and you will glance up at his flush red face as he stares nervously down at you almost as if he hadn't meant to say it yet, and you pretend you don't understand as you go back to licking his sweat slick skin. when you crawl up into the bed next to him later that night, neither of you mention it.

the second is when you are standing in front of the coffee maker, tapping your foot impatiently because you have places to be and things to be doing that don't include standing in the kitchen waiting for your fucking coffee to be done. he will come in with a towel slung low around his waist and you will devour all of his still slightly-wet skin - because he can never dry off all of the way, you slightly hate him - with your eyes and he will pretend not to notice as he grins brightly at you.

you groan impatiently as the coffee machine sputters and continues to kick out more of the brew you're hardly even a fan of but he loves for the bitter taste, so you suck it up. you will glare at the machine, and he will laugh and say _oh my god I want to marry you_ and you will blush. your coffee will be done around the same time he speaks, so you will pour your sugar into it, put the cap on, press a kiss to his lips and leave the apartment with the blush still imminent on your cheeks.

the third time you will be sitting in some fancy fucking restaurant that seems too expensive, and you will be wearing a tie that hardly matches the aesthetic of your suit and he will be watching you with nervous eyes over the table for the majority of the night. your hands are practically shaking throughout dinner, waiting for a question that never seems to come and when he orders dessert you tell him that you need some fresh air and that you'll be right back.

it goes to show that you can never handle these situations by yourself because not a mere three minutes goes by before he's following you outside and grabbing you by the wrist, forcing you to stare at him.

 _i love you,_ he will say, _and i know that you're nervous but i am too and i know that you might think you're not marriage material but i've wanted nothing more than to put a stupid ring on your finger since the day we met. you don't have to say yes and who knows maybe you won't, but consider it - consider marrying me because you're the best thing that's happened to me, and if you say no now i'll wait forever if i have to because i want you._

somewhere between all of these words coming from his mouth he pulls a simple silver band from his pocket and holds it out for you, and you can't help yourself before you're pushing against his body and kissing him like you've never kissed anyone before in your life. it's a type of messy, desperate kiss that's not calculated at all and you're breathless just going into it and your hands go to the side of his face and you hold him against you like he's some kind of lifeline that you need or you're going to die. you kiss for what feels like forever before you pull away from him, looking him in his wide eyes and telling him yes _, yes i will marry you joshua dun,_ and he will grin at you like he is the sun and you will be so desperate to cling onto any piece of him that you're shaking as he slides the ring on you.

by the time you get into your bed later that night, you're convinced that tyler joseph-dun has a great ring to it.

 

**twenty one.**

 

your wedding is nothing over the top. you both wear suits that could be considered too casual for the fact that it's your fucking _wedding day_ and there's maybe a hundred people max that you've invited. it's a small venue and a small reception and everything is about as lowkey as your mother would allow it to be, and it's sort of really perfect.

when you say your vows, you cry, and he cries, and you can hear jenna crying and also your mom.

when you kiss him for the first time as his husband, you can feel him grin against your lips and you think that maybe you were marriage material after all.

everything is a blur after that - you dance and laugh and take pictures and you enjoy the night. when you're dancing with him for the final time that night before you're set to go off to the house to change before you go to the airport to catch a flight to some small town in italy that he claims to love, you tell him that you _never thought you'd make it to that day but you're sure glad that you did_ and you're _over the fucking moon that you made it there with him._

when he kisses you, your love for him hits you square in the chest and knocks all of the breath out of you. when he pulls away and tells you in a private tone that he _loves you more than he thought he was capable of loving another human being ever_ , the feeling of home washes through your veins and anchors you right then and there to him for the rest of your life.

you tell him you love him and you _wonder how you ever went a day in your life without him._

he laughs and tells you that _you'll never have to wonder that again_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me places!
> 
> tumblr @jennajosevh  
> twitter @theneverendlng


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